Chapter 892: Central Plains Masters Gather Outside the Pass

This lengthy section is an interlude, which will not impede the continuation of the next chapter about the Dragon's Eye cavalry battle. A book review contest is currently underway, and everyone is welcome to participate enthusiastically. For instance, you could write about the various fates of the characters in Snow, and if your writing is truly excellent, I might even incorporate it directly into the book.

In the third year of Xiangfu, amidst the spring breeze and blossoming peach trees, a middle-aged man rode an old donkey through Jian'ge Pass into Western Shu. He affectedly held a peach branch, and passersby, especially young people, would invariably smile knowingly, thinking, "Oh, another martial artist admiring the unparalleled demeanor of the Sword God Deng Tai'a." However,江湖 (Jianghu) rumors stated that the Peach Blossom Sword God was not only an eminent figure in the current sword world, but also exceptionally handsome. This uncle’s appearance, on the other hand, was rather unremarkable.

The plain-looking man leisurely rode his donkey, admiring the scenery of the Shu Kingdom, stopping and starting, in no particular hurry. He entered Shu because he had received a letter from his apprentice at a familiar inn. The letter stated that his apprentice had fallen in love with a woman and that their relationship was nearing the stage of marriage, so he hoped his master would act as a matchmaker. The apprentice repeatedly reminded him in the letter not to arrive in Western Shu looking disheveled. Not only for the sake of his apprentice’s reputation—after all, those in Jianghu believe that "like master, like student"—but if the master was not presentable, how could the apprentice be any good? Therefore, his venerable master must ensure he was neat and tidy, otherwise, the girl's family might not feel comfortable entrusting their daughter to him.

Upon receiving the letter, the man, unlike his usual indifferent self, took it truly to heart. He borrowed thirty taels of silver from the innkeeper, purchased two new sets of clothes, and then hurried from the distant southeast Jianzhou to Western Shu. The letter had been sent half a year ago, but fortunately, the apprentice knew that his master was a wanderer and had pushed back the wedding date by more than half a year. The letter even swore at the end that it wouldn't matter if the letter arrived late; his apprentice would patiently wait for his master.

This man, who had used swords and forged swords but never carried one, debated along the way whether to buy a sword to hang at his waist. His apprentice's letter mentioned that the beloved woman came from a prominent martial arts family in Western Shu. Everyone in the sect, from the sect leader to the lowliest disciples, used swords, and even the names of their swords were full of charm. The sect leader's sword was called Fire Candle, and the chief elder’s famous sword, Mountain Demon, was even on the Grand Instrument Scroll. Even the names of swords belonging to several close outer disciples were grander than the last. Most importantly, the sect leader's treasured daughter, the woman his apprentice admired, happened to have a sword named Peach Blossom—what a fate!

Upon arriving in Yizhou, the middle-aged man easily found the renowned sect of Western Shu, Sword Rain Pavilion, after asking for directions in the city. It was said that during major events or celebrations, over three hundred sword masters from Sword Rain Pavilion would ascend their six-story main tower, simultaneously throwing their swords out of the building, making them fall like rain. Although Sword Rain Pavilion was not widely known throughout the entire Liyang Jianghu, unlike Spring Orchid Cottage, which produced a beauty ranked on the Rouge List, it was indeed one of the foremost sects within Western Shu's jurisdiction. There was a saying, "Western Shu swords originate from Rain Pavilion." In ancient times, the Xishu Sword Emperor, who later died defending the city gates against Xu Family Iron Cavalry, frequently ascended the main tower, personally evaluating the sword arts of outstanding disciples within Sword Rain Pavilion. The highest floor also displayed portraits of past sword masters since the sect's founding, encouraging disciples to persistently hone their sword hearts. These included ancient figures like Ji Xinding, the Great Feng Sword Immortal from the same era as Gao Shulu, and more recent ones like Liu Songtao, the Great Demon of a century ago. In the last decade or so, portraits of Jian Jiu Huang, Song Nianqing, Qi Jiajie, and Chai Qingshan had also been added. Of course, Li Chungang was an insurmountable mountain for all swordsmen under heaven; Sword Rain Pavilion particularly revered this Spring and Autumn Sword Armor, hanging his portrait centrally, alongside Lu Zu.

The gatekeeper of Sword Rain Pavilion, hearing that the distant guest was looking for that young man, became even more displeased, as he already disliked the man riding a donkey with a peach branch. In the old man’s eyes, the young man wasn't bad, his swordsmanship was mediocre, but his taste wasn't poor, and he had even luckily won a few debates with the elders. However, to marry the only daughter of their Sword Rain Pavilion's leader? He had neither a distinguished family background nor substantial cultivation; wasn't that just a pipe dream? It wasn't that the leader was deliberately making things difficult for the young man from out of town; the entire Xishu Jianghu knew that their leader had long declared: he had only one daughter, and anyone who couldn't reach the First-Grade Realm needn't dream of becoming his son-in-law.

The old man was, after all, of good nature. Hearing that the middle-aged man had traveled thousands of miles, he "spilled the beans," telling him the truth and giving him directions. He said the young man stubbornly rented a small courtyard on a nearby street and would wander around the Sword Rain Pavilion gate every few days. Last winter, when Western Shu had a rare light snowfall, the young man even went out before dawn with a broom to sweep the snow. As a result, he almost got a beating. Snowfall was such a rare occurrence in Western Shu; everyone wished for snow to pile up like mountains. Yet, his sweeping left the entire street impeccably clean, much to the dismay of many disciples who had eagerly rushed out to admire the street snow. The gatekeeper smiled wryly, muttering indignantly that if the young man hadn't been foolish but not like a common ruffian, even he would have wanted to beat him.

The middle-aged man, who had traveled a long distance, listened to the old man's rambling, one hand leading the donkey, the other rubbing his chin, a half-smile on his face.

The gatekeeper finally remembered to ask about the man's relationship with that clueless young man. The man said he was the fellow's master. The old man grimaced, his newfound enthusiasm for conversation instantly vanishing. He quickly waved his hand, signaling the man to go find his apprentice.

As the sun set, the old man watched the distant figure, not riding the donkey, growing longer on the street. The old man instinctively felt that both master and apprentice were strange, but upon closer inspection, he couldn't pinpoint exactly what was odd about them.

The middle-aged man, leading his old companion whom he was reluctant to ride, wound his way through the streets. He finally found the humble courtyard in a squalid alley. Standing at the door, he suddenly felt a pang of guilt. His apprentice had followed him across the land for so many years, asking for nothing, and thus gaining nothing.

He knocked on the door. A young man, who could no longer quite be called a boy, hurried out. Seeing his master's familiar face, his face lit up with surprise. The middle-aged man was about to speak with a smile, but his apprentice had already walked past him to hug the old donkey's head, which made the self-pitying middle-aged man feel a little hurt.

Only then did the middle-aged man notice that besides his apprentice, there was also a young girl in the courtyard, wearing a wooden hairpin and a simple cloth dress. She was carrying a water scoop and watering a small tree at the corner of the courtyard wall. Seeing the middle-aged man, she smiled shyly, looking a little flustered.

After catching up with the old donkey, with whom he had depended on for many years, the apprentice boisterously introduced, “Master, this is Acai. She’s my neighbor here. She found and planted this peach tree. Acai’s parents are also very easy to get along with; their family runs a small porridge shop down the street. Acai usually sells flowers in the bustling city, apricot blossoms, peach blossoms, orchids—all kinds. Master, if you visit Acai’s home, you’ll smell a whole courtyard full of flowers…”

The middle-aged man listened to his apprentice's incessant chatter, feeling an unprompted sense of contentment. No wonder that after they parted, he had felt something was missing while traveling alone for a year. It turned out he had simply grown unaccustomed to the absence of his apprentice's rambling.

He glanced a few more times at the slender girl from the poor family. She had her back to the two of them, her earlobes flushed red.

He smiled and turned to ask, “I’ve called your master here, when are we making the visit?”

The apprentice's expression suddenly darkened, his smile forced. “Master, I’m sorry, but it might have been a wasted trip for you.”

He frowned, asking gently, “What happened?”

The apprentice scratched his head, embarrassed. “It’s just what happened, Master, please don’t ask more.”

He asked with a smile, “Is it the girl’s parents, the Lord of Listening Rain Pavilion, breaking up your match? Do they look down on you for being a wandering swordsman, so they’re using their power to bully you?”

Unexpectedly, the apprentice shook his head. “The Lord of Listening Rain Pavilion doesn’t look down on me specifically. He is devoted to the sword and chivalry, well-regarded in the Western Shu martial world. In his eyes, only young martial artists who are Minor Grandmasters of the Second Grade are worthy partners for his daughter. It’s her mother and several elder brothers who are a bit unreasonable. They said some nasty things and did some… In short, they don’t want me to stay in this city.”

The middle-aged man chuckled, “And then you got scared?”

The apprentice hurriedly said, “How could I? It’s just that later, the girl herself found someone else. I can’t cling to her shamelessly. I still understand the principle that love between a man and a woman should be mutual.”

The girl with the wooden hairpin plucked up her courage and said, “Those people once…”

The young man quickly stopped the girl’s "complaint." The middle-aged man’s face remained normal, but in that instant, he grasped his apprentice’s arm. “Your words lack vitality. I thought you were just unaccustomed to the Western Shu climate, but it turns out you suffered an internal injury. Four months ago, someone used a sword to strike your Tanzhong, Juque, and Qihai acupoints. What a precise strike—it appears not severely wounded, but actually harmed your very essence. A swordsman of such caliber must be a renowned figure in Western Shu. Tell me his name, and your master will personally go reason with him.”

The young man shook his head. “Master, let’s just forget it. I had already wanted to leave this place, but… I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to find me if you came to Western Shu, so I didn’t leave.”

Upon hearing this, the middle-aged man, who had shown no anger before, suddenly turned gloomy, as if his reverse scale had been touched. The middle-aged man, who had always spoken with a detached air, slightly raised his voice, a hint of reproach in his tone: “Did you not tell them what your master’s name was?!”

The young man froze, then lowered his head and said, “At the time, the other party came at me aggressively, fighting for their lives, and your apprentice accidentally forgot.”

The middle-aged man snorted coldly, “I think you just didn’t want to say it, did you?”

The young man chuckled sheepishly, “How embarrassing would that be? Letting people know that you, Master, have such a good-for-nothing apprentice. Besides, I truly had no face to announce your name—who would believe it?”

The middle-aged man was stunned.

As an orphan, he had lost protection from a young age, surviving alone on that eerie Sword Mountain in his youth, enduring extreme hardships. After leaving the Wu Family Sword Tomb, no matter what he encountered, he would turn a blind eye and remain aloof. In his view, since one chose to enter the Jianghu, then life and death were fated. If one encountered injustice and could not redress it, there was no room for complaints. If one wanted to hate, one should hate oneself for being inferior in skill.

That is why Wang Xianzhi of Wudi City once made that incisive comment: This man’s sword heart is truly innocent, most harmonious with the Heavenly Dao, thus it matters not whether he holds a sword or not.

He suddenly recalled many past events. This apprentice always seemed to dislike him as a master, finding him lacking in the demeanor of a grandmaster or the grace of an immortal when traveling the martial world. He would always urge him to pay more attention to his prestige, always resentful when his name was overshadowed by someone else, wishing the entire Liyang knew his master was the undisputed number one under heaven.

But that young man seemed never to have considered letting the world know that his master had actually taken an apprentice, never considered letting Jianghu know the name of that person's apprentice.

No one in the entire Jianghu knew the name of that donkey-leading young man, and perhaps they didn't even know the surname of the Peach Blossom Sword God's apprentice.

Ever since he took this apprentice, the two had traveled the Jianghu together. Only then, when they encountered injustice, would he be compelled to intervene because of his apprentice.

Every time he saved someone, he would impatiently try to leave, but his apprentice would dawdle, laughing with the saved person, “My master is the Peach Blossom Sword God, Deng Tai’a! Don’t you ever forget it!”

"Your master is the Peach Blossom Sword God, Deng Tai'a."

"Then who is I, Deng Tai'a's, apprentice?"

The middle-aged man took a deep breath, looking at the young face with a hint of stubble, then turned to the flower-selling girl and said with a smile, “My name is Deng Tai’a, and my apprentice’s name is Li Huainian.”

The bewildered girl, her face flushed, said, “Uncle Deng, I already know Brother Li’s name.”

Deng Tai’a asked himself, his voice so low only he could hear, full of sadness, “But this son-of-a-bitch Jianghu doesn’t know.”

That evening, as dusk settled, Deng Tai'a and his apprentice, Li Huainian, visited the young girl Acai's home. Deng Tai'a, much to his apprentice's astonishment, even personally selected a few gifts. They weren't overly precious, but for a humble family, they were respectable items. This made the girl's parents beam with joy, especially upon learning that this man was Li Huainian's only living elder. The girl grew even shyer. Deng Tai'a's apprentice was a little slow to grasp the implications, but once he did, considering their half-year of acquaintance, he felt it was a natural progression and didn't believe his master was matchmaking haphazardly. Deng Tai'a, who rarely drank, shared over two catties of wine with Acai's father. Deng Tai'a candidly spoke his mind, stating that his apprentice was pure-hearted, and though half a Jianghu person like his master, he never sought great fame in the martial world but was a young man content with a peaceful, ordinary life. Hearing this, the girl's parents, who had some initial reservations, felt completely at ease.

That night, Deng Tai'a, smelling strongly of alcohol, walked slowly through the alley with his apprentice, Li Huainian.

Deng Tai’a suddenly said, “You judge a pig by its pen, and a daughter-in-law by her mother. From what you’ve said, that girl from Listening Rain Pavilion is clearly not suitable for you. But Acai, she’s a girl who can spend her life with you.”

Li Huainian chuckled.

Deng Tai’a patted his apprentice’s shoulder and, for no apparent reason, said, “Your master hasn’t done anything for you in this life…”

Li Huainian hesitated to speak, but Deng Tai’a waved his hand, cutting off what his apprentice wanted to say, and continued, “Whether you want to or not is your business; your master won’t interfere. But since you’re mostly settling down here in Western Shu, your master must try his best to ensure this place doesn’t fall into chaos and war. Plus, your master was already planning a trip to Northern Liang, so don’t worry. In today’s world, whether it’s Liyang’s Tai’an City or the Liangmang border, if your master wants to go, no one can stop him.”

The young man softly said, “Master, if I settle down and start a family, it might be difficult to wander the Jianghu with you again.”

Deng Tai’a laughed, “From now on, whether there’s anything or not, I’ll often come to Western Shu to see you all.”

The young man hesitated, then asked, “Master, I am not a figure like Xu Fengnian, and I haven’t managed to be an apprentice who can bring honor to your name. I am sorry.”

Deng Tai’a solemnly shook his head. “You are wrong. Having you as my apprentice is already the best.”

It is certainly wonderful that the Liyang Jianghu has dashing figures like Cao Changqing and Xu Fengnian.

But for me, Deng Tai’a, having an apprentice like you is the best.

If anyone under heaven wants to make your life difficult, it’s simple: they’ll first have to ask if I, your master, agree.

In Yizhou, Western Shu, the city’s peach blossoms still smiled in the spring breeze.

The inconspicuous middle-aged man, who had left, returned, without donkey or sword, and arrived at the entrance of Sword Rain Pavilion.

On this day, Sword Rain Pavilion was hosting guests. The Governor of Yizhou personally brought his beloved son to visit, seeking to form a matrimonial alliance between their families.

To show their solemnity, the leader of Sword Rain Pavilion, Zhang Yun, gathered all his disciples to ascend the main tower, where they removed their swords. The numerous falling swords scattered like rain, a spectacle that greatly impressed the Governor of Yizhou and the Vice-General of Yizhou, who acted as matchmakers for the two families, standing at the edge of the plaza.

The entire city of Yizhou knew that the Governor had allied himself with the white-clothed King of Shu. The position of Governor was already equivalent to a minor prefect, and now he had already sidelined the prefect from the local gentry. It was only a matter of time before he legitimately became the top civil official in Yizhou.

Therefore, the wandering swordsman who had caused such a stir became a stumbling block for this match made in heaven in Yizhou. No one believed that Zhang Yun's beloved only daughter falling for the Governor's son was a change of heart; everyone thought the foreign wandering swordsman had been overestimating himself, and that the young man had lost his mind, dreaming of reaching for the unreachable.

When the middle-aged man arrived at the plaza outside Sword Rain Pavilion, he saw the leader, Zhang Yun, quickly approaching with his wife and son to greet the Yizhou dignitaries and officials. Among them was a beautiful young woman in the prime of her youth, standing beside a handsome young man dressed in brocade, her face radiant like a flower.

While Sword Rain Pavilion was hosting such a grand event, a young man was accompanying a girl, walking through streets and alleys, loudly selling apricot and peach blossoms, earning just one coin per branch.

The middle-aged man recalled the end of the heart-to-heart talk he had with his apprentice last night in the small courtyard, when his apprentice told him not to bother with Sword Rain Pavilion anymore. He had nodded in agreement then. His apprentice, not fully trusting him, repeated it. He had smiled and said that if an apprentice could be so agreeable, how could he, the master, be any worse?

In fact, Deng Tai’a had another unspoken thought: he, as a master, had never been agreeable with anyone, whether it was with the Wu Family Sword Tomb or with Jianghu itself.

So, having such a meddlesome and soft-hearted apprentice was Deng Tai’a's biggest trouble in this life, besides his achievements in sword practice, and also his greatest pride.

Deng Tai’a chuckled to himself. He had just been stopped by the same old gatekeeper, who, upon hearing that he wanted to challenge Sword Rain Pavilion with a sword, gave him a comically displeased look and asked him, if it was a sword contest, where was his sword?

Deng Tai’a did not answer. His figure flashed, and he appeared inside Sword Rain Pavilion.

Deng Tai’a looked up at the main building, where a golden plaque inscribed with the words “First Sword Rain on Earth,” personally penned by the old Western Shu Emperor, hung. The plaque shone brilliantly under the spring sun.

The first to notice the sudden appearance of this middle-aged man in Sword Rain Pavilion were not the Sword Dao Grandmaster Zhang Yun, who was renowned in the Western Shu martial world as "Three Qi Transcendent," nor the several highly skilled elder worshipers. Instead, it was a few bored, idly looking around junior disciples. Most of these had romantic thoughts about the leader's daughter, but knowing the immense disparity in status, they felt inferior to the Governor of Yizhou's son. Thinking of the girl about to be embraced by another, they adopted an "out of sight, out of mind" attitude, and then they saw the man in coarse clothes, with no sword or imposing presence. They paid him no mind; after all, while Western Shu's Sword Rain Pavilion might not be as globally famous as Dongyue Sword Pool or Southern Border Dragon Palace, it was still the leading force in its province. The leader, Zhang Yun, was even among the top ten masters in Western Shu. In his youth, he had been a genius swordsman favored even by Xie Lingzhen, the previous old master of Spring Orchid Cottage. Although he had not yet reached the First-Grade Realm, the entire Western Shu martial world believed Zhang Yun was one of the few among the top ten masters most likely to achieve that legendary state.

A minor grandmaster of the Second Grade, though carrying the "minor" prefix, was sufficient to establish a sect within a Liyang province. Those divine figures of the First-Grade Realm were often elusive, rarely showing themselves, and disdained involvement in Jianghu affairs, making them difficult for ordinary martial artists to approach. Thus, in the true Liyang Jianghu, the most prominent figures were martial grandmasters like Zhang Yun, who were visible and tangible—Jianghu experts who could appear every few days. Otherwise, no matter how much one bragged about drinking with those martial grandmasters at the same table, no one would believe it. Because figures like Zhang Yun not only possessed truly exceptional cultivation but also exuded an approachable aura and acted in a down-to-earth manner. If one had the good fortune to meet the famous leader of Sword Rain Pavilion, it would indeed cause surprise and inspire a mixture of belief and doubt.

A thunderous crash made everyone in Sword Rain Pavilion tremble.

The plaque, personally bestowed by the former Prince of Western Shu, split into two pieces and fell to the ground.

Everyone exchanged bewildered glances, finding it utterly inconceivable. That plaque of illustrious origin was made of top-grade nanmu wood, certainly not so vulnerable to wind and sun. Moreover, it had only been hanging for just over thirty years; how could it possibly break in half as if cleaved by a single sword?

Everyone looked around, finally focusing their gaze on the middle-aged man with his hands behind his back. Even the Second Grade Grandmaster Zhang Yun couldn't discern any clues. Could this man be the culprit who destroyed that priceless plaque?

Zhang Yun, the leader of Sword Rain Pavilion, was one of Western Shu’s few renowned masters and a seasoned Jianghu veteran. He admitted that even if he wielded a sword, he could not cleave a plaque from three or four hundred paces away with sword qi.

Such a person arriving, no matter how arrogant their posture, could not be easily handled by Sword Rain Pavilion’s numbers.

The Wu Family Sword Tomb had maintained its position among the top three Jianghu sects for centuries, its influence unwavering, precisely because even a child from the Sword Tomb was said to be able to command a sword, making it spin like a butterfly or bird. This itself signified the immense difficulty of cultivating sword qi.

Let alone a streak of sword qi traversing hundreds of paces through the air without diminishing in power, directly cleaving such a massive plaque?

One of the elders immediately darted into the air, stood at the main tower’s entrance for a careful inspection, then quickly returned to Zhang Yun’s side, his face pale, whispering.

Zhang Yun was instantly thunderstruck.

It was caused by sword qi.

Moreover, after the sword qi split the plaque, it also cleaved through the main building structure in its wake.

A saying circulated in the Liyang Jianghu: Since the royal relative Su Mao died outside the imperial city gates and Huang Zhentu died on the walls of Donghai City, Western Shu had no more presentable swordsmen.

This also reflected somewhat the predicament of the current Western Shu martial world.

Especially after Xie Lingzhen of Spring Orchid Cottage mysteriously died in Kuai Xue Mountain Villa, her successor, Xie, the beauty of the Rouge List, only amazed the world with her looks, not her martial arts cultivation, thus further reinforcing the notion that there were no grandmasters in the Shu Jianghu.

The middle-aged man slowly advanced, stopping three or four dozen paces from Zhang Yun, and finally spoke: "My apprentice has already explained the situation, but you wouldn't listen. So today, I won't bother reasoning with you."

Zhang Yun was on the verge of tears. "How was I to know who your apprentice was? If he was the esteemed disciple of a Grandmaster of such divine swordsmanship, we in Sword Rain Pavilion would have worshipped him like a Bodhisattva, instead of not listening to him when he came to reason!"

Zhang Yun's mind raced. This man looked to be only in his thirties or forties and had a grievance with his Sword Rain Pavilion. He was likely not from the Western Shu Jianghu, otherwise, he should have given Zhang Yun some face. Yet, Sword Rain Pavilion’s influence had always been limited to Western Shu. The conduct of its disciples was also relatively restrained, rarely forming deadly enmities with others in Jianghu. Even the outstanding disciples sent out of Shu to promote Sword Rain Pavilion’s name in Jianghu hadn't been heard of having major grievances with top sects in Liyang. To be perfectly honest, to truly provoke those top grandmasters of Liyang, Sword Rain Pavilion disciples would need to possess that much skill, wouldn't they?

Zhang Yun was also somewhat puzzled. This person before him showed no obvious qi or imposing presence, not like someone who had just acted. Was there perhaps a true transcendent master hidden in the shadows?

The middle-aged man's gaze swept over the people of Sword Rain Pavilion, landing on the young woman who seemed to revel in chaos. Beside her, a woman who resembled her by six or seven parts had a grim expression, seemingly weighing the pros and cons, hesitating whether to use official power to "strike the mountain and shake the tiger." Several Sword Rain Pavilion elders, however, looked as if facing a formidable enemy, clearly understanding the gravity of the situation better than the woman. Some matters could be suppressed by official power, but others might not.

Zhang Yun, with his refined appearance, carried the famous Western Shu sword Fire Candle at his waist. He bowed respectfully, a rare gesture for a senior, saying, “May I ask who your esteemed apprentice is, Senior? If it is indeed Sword Rain Pavilion that has offended your disciple, Zhang Yun will certainly give you a full account!”

The middle-aged man did not answer the question. He gazed at the group and asked, “Which one of you holds the Mountain Demon sword?”

The corpulent Governor of Yizhou, who held a high position, narrowed his eyes and said sinisterly, “Today is a great day for my family and Brother Zhang’s. I never imagined someone would dare to act like this in Yizhou City! This truly opens my eyes!”

The Vice-General of Yizhou, who commanded thousands of troops, sneered, “In the territory under my command, does a Jianghu person still dare to presume on their martial skill and violate the law?!”

Zhang Yun saw that both the powerful civil and military officials of Yizhou had expressed their stance so clearly, and his heart settled. However, he still wished to settle the matter peacefully. After bowing, he straightened his back and gazed at the unexpected guest. "Senior, could it be that our Chief Revered Elder Hu Dachun of Sword Rain Pavilion had a misunderstanding with your esteemed apprentice?"

The middle-aged man paid no mind to the two Western Shu officials of power, nor did he acknowledge the Sword Rain Pavilion leader, who was intentionally feigning humility. Instead, he looked at the white-robed swordsman who had earlier gone to inspect the plaque. The man had white hair and a white beard, and even his sword sheath was pristine white, exuding an air of immortal grace.

He asked, “Was it you who struck my apprentice three times?”

This Western Shu sword master, whose swordsmanship within Sword Rain Pavilion was no weaker than Zhang Yun’s, looked composed but remained silent, whether from unwillingness or fear.

But when the middle-aged man asked this question, the mother and daughter and the handsome young man’s faces subtly changed. The woman’s gaze grew even more sinister, the young woman pouted, and the young man instinctively stepped back.

The middle-aged man said flatly, “One sword for one sword.”

The moment the white-haired elder, who held the Mountain Demon, attempted to grasp his sword hilt, his chest exploded, splattering blood.

But after this silent "one sword" killed him, sanguine blood flowers also simultaneously burst forth from the Juque and Qihai acupoints on Zhang Dachun's chest.

Zhang Dachun fell backward, unable to even draw his sword, let alone grasp its hilt.

One sword was enough to kill, but if he said he would return three swords, then three swords it would be.

And the middle-aged man, in everyone’s eyes, kept his hands clasped behind his back. Zhang Yun was even more certain that this person emitted no qi ripples whatsoever.

Zhang Yun, his hands and feet cold, disregarded his grandmasterly demeanor. He looked up and scanned his surroundings, as if trying to find the peerless master hidden behind the scenes, his voice laced with unconcealed fear, “Junior Zhang Yun of Sword Rain Pavilion humbly requests Senior to come forward for a discussion. Junior is willing to sincerely atone!”

This middle-aged man turned to the two high-ranking officials from Yizhou. “I don’t know what officials you are, but today, even if Chen Zhibao stood here, he couldn’t stop me from killing the person I want to kill. If you don’t believe me, feel free to bring your troops. Thousands or tens of thousands, I can wait for you. If you don’t call for troops, I’ll kill you now. If you do call for troops, I’ll still kill you. Remember, before you die, don’t try to reason with me.”

The world, of course, did not know that he had even killed Xie Guanying, the man behind the scenes who had captured a flood dragon for the King of Shu, Chen Zhibao.

The woman sneered, “What a bold tone, not even putting our King of Shu in your eyes! My grandfather and the Xishu Commander-in-Chief are close friends…”

The middle-aged man interrupted the woman’s words, “Then invite your grandfather and the Xishu Commander-in-Chief to Sword Rain Pavilion as well. I will wait. If they don’t arrive, I will go to their residences and kill them.”

The woman was about to utter more harsh words but was roared at by her husband, Zhang Yun, who had not spoken a single harsh word since their marriage: “Shut your mouth, you old hag!”

The trembling leader of Sword Rain Pavilion looked at the middle-aged man, his face full of bitter agony. He asked, "May I ask, Senior, are you from the Wu Family Sword Tomb or the Dongyue Sword Pool?"

Without any apparent action from the middle-aged man, the Yizhou Governor, frozen like a statue, suddenly fell backward, dead on the spot.

The middle-aged man’s voice remained unperturbed. “Somewhat related to the Wu family, unrelated to the Dongyue Sword Pool.”

The Yizhou Vice-General exclaimed in terror, “You really killed the Yizhou Governor?!”

The middle-aged man said a joke that was not funny at all, “You can think it’s fake if you want. Just a reminder, if you don’t go get your troops soon, you’ll be dead too.”

Then, the military officer, with a crying voice, uttered an even bigger joke, trembling, “Esteemed Hero, we have no grievances, no enmity. Hero, you… you cannot indiscriminately kill innocents. This matter has nothing to do with me, and I won’t interfere anymore. Hero, you can kill anyone you want in Yizhou. If you don’t wish to do it yourself, your humble subordinate will help you kill them, alright?”

The middle-aged man remained silent.

After leaving the Wu Family Sword Tomb, he had never particularly liked the Jianghu, but in recent years, his apprentice had grown very fond of it, which was why he was willing to treat Jianghu people and affairs with courtesy.

Thus, among the four Great Grandmasters of Martial Arts — he, Deng Tai’a, Cao Changqing of Western Chu, Xu Fengnian of Northern Liang, and Tuoba Pusuan of Northern Mang — only he, Deng Tai’a, was truly carefree and unbound.

So, if Jianghu bothers me, I can disregard it. But if I, Deng Tai’a, want to bother the people of this world, no one should expect to escape.

Therefore, Xie Guanying, who ranked first on the Land Immortal List, fled thousands of miles, from the northern Tai'an City to the shores of the South Sea, yet still could not escape death by his sword.

At this moment, two more Sword Rain Pavilion elders, who had merely harbored killing intent, collapsed dead on the ground.

Zhang Yun, utterly lost, looked at the middle-aged man whose name he still didn't know, and said with immense sorrow, “Senior, I, Zhang Yun, do not know what truly happened, but after Zhang Dachun, none of these others deserved to die!”

The Yizhou Vice-General suddenly snapped out of his stupor and bolted, intending to run as far as possible from Sword Rain Pavilion, to leave Yizhou, and no matter how much silver or how many connections it took, to seek refuge in the Shu King's mansion.

The middle-aged man did not even glance at the Western Shu general's desperate escape. He merely cast a look at the leader of Sword Rain Pavilion. “I said, I’m not here to reason with you today.”

Zhang Yun, his heart dead, asked, "Does Senior truly not fear making an enemy of the Western Shu officialdom and the entire Western Shu martial world?"

The middle-aged man, who killed at will, smiled and said, “If Chen Zhibao were here, he certainly wouldn't say such a thing.”

Zhang Yun smiled bitterly, gripping the Fire Candle sword hilt. “Junior knows he is no match for Senior, but for the centuries-old reputation of Sword Rain Pavilion, and for the lives of my wife and children, I must boldly challenge Senior to a fight.”

Unexpectedly, the middle-aged man shook his head. “I will not kill you today. My apprentice told me that you, Zhang Yun, are a good-natured and chivalrous man. For that, you don’t have to die.”

The handsome young man knelt on the ground, wailing uncontrollably over his father, the Governor of Yizhou’s corpse. “You lunatic, why did you kill my father?! May you die a terrible death!”

Zhang Yun’s daughter, seeing the tragic state of the man she loved, was also tear-stained, her face like a pear blossom bathed in rain. She knelt down, intending to offer comfort, but the young man pushed her away. “Get lost, you jinx! You’re the reason my father died! If it weren’t for you and your mother’s instigation, how would I, the esteemed son of a governor, repeatedly act against that nameless nobody? And how would I personally use my official position to ask Zhang Dachun to injure someone?!”

Zhang Yun was thunderstruck, his face blank as he turned to his wife and daughter, asking expressionlessly, “Speak. What exactly happened? It’s come to this, so at least let me, Zhang Yun, die with a clear understanding.”

The still-charming woman no longer possessed any of her usual graceful demeanor, her expression becoming terrifyingly distorted as she shrieked, “Zhang Yun! How was I to know that poor boy’s master was so formidable? If anyone is to blame, it’s that young man surnamed Li for deliberately feigning ignorance and playing us for fools! If he hadn’t intentionally concealed his identity to toy with our Sword Rain Pavilion, why would I have deliberately obstructed his marriage to our daughter?! Haha, I only regret now that I didn’t let that old good-for-nothing Zhang Dachun kill him with one sword!”

Zhang Yun looked at his wife, who seemed to have gone mad, feeling both unfamiliarity and disgust. He turned back. “Senior, can I, Zhang Yun, trade my death for the lives of the innocent people in Sword Rain Pavilion?”

The middle-aged man shook his head. “No.”

Zhang Yun’s lips trembled, unable to utter a single word.

The middle-aged man then added, “Don’t worry, I originally only intended to kill Zhang Dachun today. Now it’s just him, plus the one on the ground, and the Yizhou Vice-General who fled Sword Rain Pavilion. As for the other dead ones, since they intended to kill me, they must pay the price for harboring such thoughts. Though in my opinion, your wife and daughter should also die, my apprentice never had such an idea, and I won’t make him feel guilty.”

Zhang Yun was simply incapable of comprehending this man’s thoughts.

It was just like when he was a child, every time he ascended the tower to view the hanging portraits of past sword immortals, he could never understand why the same sword, in their hands, could generate such immense power that it could stir up the heavens and earth, or with a single strike, cause mountains to tremble.

But the middle-aged man continued, “From today on, your Sword Rain Pavilion should cease operations. What ‘swords falling like rain’ being a grand spectacle—it truly insults the swords in your hands. I believe any sword under heaven, as long as it is held by a true swordsman, disdains being mere company to others’ swords. Li Chungang’s Wooden Ox is such, and even ordinary swords in the world are such. So, those depicted in the portraits on the top floor, if they have spirits in heaven, have probably already died of laughter. A sword in its sheath rings only for injustice; once drawn, it must be wielded with a clear conscience. How can it be used for outsiders to admire and applaud?”

Zhang Yun gave a desolate smile, his eyes firm. He said in a deep voice, “Senior’s words are very reasonable. However, Sword Rain Pavilion is, after all, the culmination of my Zhang family ancestors’ centuries of effort. Therefore, today, Zhang Yun may die and the pavilion may fall, but the pavilion must not cease to exist while Zhang Yun lives on in disgrace!”

The middle-aged man looked at this person properly for the first time.

Zhang Yun tightly gripped the Fire Candle sword, his mind free of all distractions. "My Zhang family's Sword Rain Pavilion once saw Lu Zu ride past on a crane, once had Sword Emperor Su Xiu ascend the tower to critique swordsmen of the world, and even Sword God Li Chungang personally guided my grandfather's sword arts here. If I, Zhang Yun, retreat today, then Sword Rain Pavilion will truly be no more! Zhang Ningjing, Zhang Zhiyuan, Zhang Danbo, Zhang Mingzhi, you four remember: after my death, the people of Sword Rain Pavilion may die, the plaque may fall, but the three characters 'Sword Rain Pavilion' must not be lost! They must not be disgraced!"

Zhang Yun drew his Fire Candle sword, ready to die heroically, and smiled, “Before I die, I thank Senior for the grace of allowing me to draw my sword. As for Senior’s apprentice, that young man named Li Huainian, I, Zhang Yun, on the verge of death, will also boldly speak a few words from my heart. In fact, I had quite a good impression of Li Huainian, not because his inherent talent was not outstanding, but because his insights into swordsmanship were remarkably profound. More so, seeing this young man reminded me of my own youthful spirit and willingness to abandon all caution for the one I admired. My original intention was to give him a few more cold shoulders, just like my own bleak experiences in youth. It was only later that, for some unknown reason, my daughter suddenly changed her mind. At the time, I felt some regret, but I didn’t think deeply about it, nor did I imagine that Zhang Dachun would act against that young man.”

Speaking of this, Zhang Yun turned his head to look at the beautiful woman with wrinkles already forming at the corners of her eyes, and gently said, “You used to not be like this.”

The woman looked bewildered.

The middle-aged man no longer kept his hands behind his back. Looking at the leader of Sword Rain Pavilion, who had adopted a sword stance, he smiled and said, “Go ahead and strike, I have my measure. I will let you know when your strength is exhausted, and when you shall die.”

Western Shu’s Sword Rain Pavilion claimed to have collected over a thousand exquisite sword techniques from across the land. While in reality most of these were merely techniques of past Sword Pavilion leaders and outstanding disciples, not particularly exceptional in the grand scheme of things, the accumulated heritage of centuries meant that some of their hidden techniques were indeed top-tier contemporary swordsmanship. It was unfortunate that Zhang Yun himself knew that many techniques were subtly perfected, yet he did not grasp their true essence. After all, the legacies of too many Sword Dao Grandmasters each had their unique strengths, and their sword intents were scattered and complex, even containing contradictions. Zhang Yun ultimately had not reached the state of returning to simplicity, like finding ten thousand taels of gold but being able to carry only a few hundred catties with bare hands.

The middle-aged man held one hand behind his back and extended the other.

Zhang Yun’s sword strikes created myriad phenomena: at times, they were as grand and powerful as the rising sun in the east; at times, as delicate and continuous as the persistent rain in Jiangnan; at times, as solid and heavy as a deep winter snow; at times, as light and ethereal as a bird taking flight from a branch.

Even more remarkably, Zhang Yun's transitions between these distinctly different sword intents were meticulously seamless, without appearing abrupt or forced.

It should be known that the opening line of Sword Rain Pavilion's family motto clearly states: "The sunrise over Kunlun, the bright moon over the sea, the waters of Spring God Lake, the great tide of Guangling, the rosy clouds of Chicheng, the flying snow of Liangliao, the yellow sands of the great desert—all these wonders contain sword intent, and when unified, they mark the culmination of the Sword Dao!"

Yet, no matter how Zhang Yun unleashed his sword strikes, the middle-aged man merely flicked the tip of the Fire Candle sword with his finger each time. Thus, every tremor meant the abrupt cessation of one of Zhang Yun’s exquisite sword intents.

This absurd scene was like a sophisticated scholar reciting an ancient masterpiece, only to be abruptly interrupted by a vulgar villager with a rude, flatulent sound.

On the plaza, only sword qi, like a rainbow, could be seen.

Zhang Yun, a man and his sword, were indistinct, yet the middle-aged man remained stationary, effortlessly flicking his fingers.

Even the most uninitiated disciple of Sword Rain Pavilion's miscellaneous duties knew perfectly well that the gap in their sword dao attainments was as vast as that between clouds and mud.

Their master or grand-master, Zhang Yun, the leader of Western Shu Sword Rain Pavilion, ranked among the top ten grandmasters in Western Shu. Even Liu Yuewei, the chief elder of Spring Orchid Cottage, who ranked first, would never dare claim to contend with Zhang Yun's full sword effort using just two fingers, let alone while remaining completely motionless.

The sudden emergence of this middle-aged man was both shocking in its legendary, land-immortal-like profound cultivation, and it also invisibly unfurled a grand and magnificent martial arts scroll for many Sword Rain Pavilion disciples aspiring to reach the pinnacle of the sword dao.

Everyone present felt a complex mix of emotions. Sword Rain Pavilion had encountered such a life-and-death enemy—who could turn the tide? Today was destined not to erase past humiliation, but would it truly be possible in ten or twenty years?

Just as Zhang Yun's sword momentum weakened, and the leader of Sword Rain Pavilion knew his death was inevitable, Zhang Yun felt no great regret. He merely felt that after displaying his life's accumulated knowledge to the fullest, it still amounted to just a flick of this man's fingers, a slight shame towards his ancestors. Yet, having pursued enlightenment with immense hardship and now, in a daze, reaching a clear and empty state of sword heart, he had no regrets left.

“Master, don’t kill people, killing is against the law!”

Suddenly, an anxious voice rang out from a distance. That familiar voice, when it reached the ears of the Sword Rain Pavilion disciples, used to seem laughable and detestable, but now it was nothing short of heavenly music.

As for the content of the words, no one found it amusing anymore.

The middle-aged man flicked Zhang Yun and his sword with two fingers, forcing him back dozens of paces. He turned to his hastily approaching apprentice and said, laughing, “When did killing stop being against the law?”

The young man ran to his side and whispered, “Whether it’s against the law or not, let’s not talk about that for now. But you’re killing people right in front of so many eyes! How bad will that sound when it gets out? The Peach Blossom Sword God went on a killing spree in Western Shu’s Sword Rain Pavilion, damaging his prestige!”

The old gatekeeper, who had run all over the streets looking for the young man, didn’t know he had, in effect, saved Sword Rain Pavilion’s life.

The middle-aged man said helplessly, “When have I ever cared about my reputation?”

The young man righteously retorted, “I, your apprentice, care! A lot!”

The middle-aged man smiled, dismissing the comment.

Sweating profusely, Zhang Yun sheathed his sword, clasped his hands in greeting, his face beaming with genuine and joyful smiles. He bowed deeply. “Junior has now learned Senior’s identity. Sword Rain Pavilion, because of Senior, will be removed from Western Shu. Zhang Yun has no regrets in this life! Sword Rain Pavilion also has no regrets!”

Upon these words, all Sword Rain Pavilion elders, guest masters, and disciples below Zhang Yun were utterly astonished.

In Jianghu, for all upright figures, personal reputation was extremely important, and the reputation of their sect was even more so.

Zhang Yun's astonishing statement implied that this plain-looking middle-aged man, in terms of the world's sword dao, was akin to the Wu family head wielding the power of the Sword Tomb to speak of flying swords, or Chai Qingshan representing Dongyue Sword Pool to speak of sword forging.

Otherwise, no matter how high this man's martial cultivation, no matter how much he regarded all living beings as mere ants, it would not have prompted Zhang Yun, who harbored the intention of sacrificing himself for his sword, to spontaneously utter such words.

The middle-aged man showed no unusual expression, accepting it calmly, or more accurately, completely disregarding it.

The woman who had been pushed aside earlier by the Governor of Yizhou now leaned against her mother, looking utterly pitiful. Upon seeing the wandering swordsman from out of town, with whom she had once sworn an oath of eternal love in secret, her timid face showed a hint of natural charm, making her appear endearing. She took a few steps forward, gazing deeply at the young man whom she had discarded like a worn-out shoe after her mother had poisoned her mind. She softly said, “Huainian, I was wrong. Will you forgive me? I actually never forgot you, but my family…”

Li Huainian turned to look at the girl he had asked to stay in the distance. She was holding her bamboo flower basket, watching eagerly.

The apricot blossoms in the basket were sold out; only two or three peach branches remained.

He smiled, then turned back, his smile fading, and glanced at the Sword Rain Pavilion girl without speaking.

The middle-aged man asked, “Finally given up?”

The young man hummed, nodding vigorously.

The young man seemed to realize something, asking with surprise, “Master, you didn’t deliberately trick me into coming here, did you?”

The middle-aged man remained unmoved.

The young man walked to his side, muttering in a low, dejected voice, “Master, I never thought you were so cunning before. If you had been this sly and seasoned, your reputation in Jianghu would have long surpassed Wang Xianzhi and Cao Changqing, let alone Xu Fengnian.”

The middle-aged man said lazily, “Your business is done. Your master still has a small matter to attend to; there’s an Yizhou Vice-General to kill. But no matter how good he is at running, he probably can’t compare to that fellow named Xie.”

Then he glanced at Zhang Yun, who stood respectfully as if seeing an ancestor reincarnated. After hesitating for a moment, he spoke, “Those who practice the sword should not value victory and defeat lightly, but rather life and death. A dead man cannot wield a three-foot sword. Hmm, finally, a few words: your swordsmanship, Zhang Yun, is passable, and your sword intent is quite good. At least it showed me one thing: after Su Xiu and Huang Zhentu, Western Shu still has swords. So, this Sword Rain Pavilion can continue to operate. However, today’s events stop within your Sword Rain Pavilion gates. If future grievances extend beyond your doors, my next visit won’t be so agreeable.”

Zhang Yun felt a wave of relief, and even more, profound gratitude, once again clasping his hands and bowing deeply, an unusually solemn gesture.

The master and apprentice turned and walked away.

“Master, those last few words you said… truly have the demeanor of a grandmaster. Did you learn them from someone during your last long trip?”

“Master, if we ever have conflicts with others again, let’s follow this routine for talking, it’s sure to work!”

“Master, let’s be clear about our accounts. You can’t just put on a grandmaster’s airs and then elegantly walk away, abandoning my future livelihood in Yizhou City. I’m planning to live here for a long time… Acai and her family are poor, and my swordsmanship isn’t good. You just said yesterday that you want me to live a stable life. I’m not asking you to pay for the silver or the betrothal gifts, but you can’t leave Acai and me with a mess…”

“Shut up!”

“You go take care of that stubborn donkey yourself!”

“Haha, the sun is quite nice today.”

Watching the master and apprentice meet the flower-selling girl and gradually walk away.

Zhang Yun was filled with mixed emotions.

Wang Xuanlin, Sword Rain Pavilion’s senior disciple, once personally praised by Xie Lingzhen of Spring Orchid Cottage as “destined for greatness in twenty years,” came to his master’s side and carefully asked, “Master, is that Senior also a swordsman?”

Zhang Yun did not answer his senior disciple’s question. He gazed blankly towards the gate for a long time, then smiled and asked, “Late last year, you young hotheads were excitedly discussing needing to find an auspicious day to hang the Peach Blossom Sword God’s portrait on the top floor. If I remember correctly, you even strongly advocated for hanging this Sword Immortal’s portrait between Lu Zu and Li Chungang. Have you chosen the date?”

Wang Xuanlin asked curiously, “But doesn’t our Sword Rain Pavilion have that unshakeable ancestral rule that only after those unparalleled sword dao grandmasters pass away are their portraits allowed to be hung in our pavilion?”

Zhang Yun muttered to himself, “For his parting words, ‘Western Shu still has swords,’ even if my ancestors scold me for being an unfilial descendant, I want to hang his portrait. Moreover, what’s wrong with making an exception for the Peach Blossom Sword God, who almost became our in-law?”

Wang Xuanlin was stunned.

Suddenly, Zhang Yun said in a deep voice, “Sword Rain Pavilion disciples, all draw your swords! Adopt the Da T’ai-Ah Stance!”

Finally, Zhang Yun looked towards the gate and shouted, “All three hundred and twenty-four people of Western Shu Sword Rain Pavilion, with the three-foot swords in our hands, bid farewell to the Peach Blossom Sword God!”

The woman looked dazed, muttering, “Peach Blossom Sword God, Deng Tai’a, so you are Deng Tai’a…”

The young woman’s face was covered in tears of regret. “Why, why are you his apprentice…”

Outside the gate of Sword Rain Pavilion, the innocent flower-selling girl tugged at Li Huainian’s sleeve and asked curiously, “Who is the Peach Blossom Sword God they’re talking about?”

Li Huainian suppressed a smile and pouted.

The girl looked at Uncle Deng, walking ahead of them, the middle-aged man who had ridden the donkey into the courtyard yesterday. She smiled happily, “Brother Li, that title… it sounds very impressive. I’ve heard storytellers’ plays, and none of those great heroes’ titles seem as good as Uncle Deng’s.”

Deng Tai’a turned around, picked a peach blossom from the girl’s basket, and said with a smile, “How powerful can a guy be whose apprentice was beaten and bedridden for two or three months? So, this Peach Blossom Sword God title just sounds impressive, that’s all.”

The girl glanced at the young man, a hint of a smile on her lips.

The young man, feigning indignation, said, “One coin for one flower!”

The middle-aged man shamelessly replied, “No money, put it on my tab.”

The girl suddenly blushed. “Uncle Deng, I…”

The middle-aged man, seeming to guess the girl’s thoughts, smiled and shook his head at her. Then he put the peach blossom in his mouth, placed his hands behind his head, and turning, said gently, “My apprentice, Deng Tai’a’s apprentice, has already married the best woman in the world.”

The girl was overcome with shyness, but hearing Uncle Deng say that, her anxiety, which had kept her from ever daring to dream of marrying Brother Li, lessened considerably.

She also thought, "Such an unpretentious Peach Blossom Sword God, such an agreeable elder—he probably isn't really that kind of immensely famous Jianghu hero, is he?"

The girl suddenly felt that thinking this way was very unfair to Brother Li and Uncle Deng, and she secretly stuck out her tongue.

That spring, as Li Huainian's master, Deng Tai'a took up work as an assistant in the porridge shop of Acai's parents, who were now considered half-in-laws. He welcomed guests and saw them off, saving just under ten taels of silver. Before leaving Yizhou, Western Shu, for Beiliang Pass, he shamelessly borrowed another twenty taels from his apprentice, using the money to buy a plain iron sword.

On his journey to Liang, the Peach Blossom Sword God, Deng Tai'a, for the first time in his life since drawing his first sword from the Sword Tomb in his youth, carried a sword at his waist.

Late second year of Xiangfu, Huishan, Guniu Ridge.

Great Snow Peak, heavy snow.

In the twilight, a woman in purple robes walked out alone from the Half Moon Tower, which had become a martial arts holy land. She held an ordinary bamboo-handled oiled paper umbrella, slowly walking through the swirling snow.

Huishan had visitors year-round, like clouds and weaving threads, and even this late heavy snowfall did not deter them from climbing. However, after the purple-robed woman left the tower, Huang Fangfo, the chief guest elder of Huishan, immediately instructed his servants to set up checkpoints at the entrance to Great Snow Peak from Guniu Ridge. No one, whether miscellaneous people or residents of Great Snow Peak, was allowed near Great Snow Peak, nor near the Huishan Mountain Lord who had suddenly developed an interest in admiring the snow. Violators would be executed without mercy. In present-day Huishan, Xuanyuan Qingfeng, the mistress, had long since abandoned worldly affairs, and Huang Fangfo, a veteran of two dynasties, held considerable power. His martial arts cultivation also vaguely showed signs of advancing from the Zhi Xuan to the Heaven-Phenomenon Realm. Taking this step would be like a traveler crossing an insurmountable chasm, or a scholar placing among the top three in the imperial examinations.

In these past two years, Huishan had been in its prime in the Liyang Jianghu.

Among the three Liyang figures of the Four Great Grandmasters in martial arts rankings, Cao Changqing was dead, Deng Tai'a's whereabouts were unknown, and Xu Fengnian was far away in a remote corner of the Northwest. And among the Liyang Top Ten Masters, recently assessed by enthusiasts, only a few like Qi Jiajie and Chai Qingshan were on par with Xuanyuan Qingfeng, but they were far less brilliant than the purple-robed figure of Huishan. Some admirers even lauded this martial arts alliance leader as the "Rouge Grandmaster," being both a beauty worthy of the Rouge List and a martial arts grandmaster. In the entire world, only Jiang Si, the Empress of Western Chu, rumored to have died for her country, could compare. Now that Jiang Si was dead, the entire Jianghu seemed to feel lonely for Xuanyuan Qingfeng.

Lonely, just like the magnificent snow scene on Great Snow Peak today. Heavy snow flew, covering everything, but only she was there to witness it.

She paused at the edge of Great Snow Peak cliff, gazing into the distance, her small oiled paper umbrella covered in white snow.

Like a beauty with white hair.

At this moment, someone appeared furtively on Great Snow Peak, greatly spoiling the scenic view. Huang Fangfo, who was gazing at the purple-robed figure from the second floor of Half Moon Tower, immediately darkened. He was about to descend the tower and throw that audacious trespasser into the river outside Great Snow Peak to feed the fish. However, to the shock of this astute chief guest elder of Huishan, although Xuanyuan Qingfeng made no sound, and the beautiful woman remained motionless amidst the wind and snow, Huang Fangfo distinctly felt an overwhelming aura, which prevented his imminent action. Yes, it was an aura, and not merely qi movement.

Huang Fangfo respectfully stepped back, indicating he understood. Huang Fangfo was utterly bewildered; he was not unfamiliar with that uninvited guest, an unremarkable nobody who always boasted about having traveled Jianghu with Xu Fengnian, eating, drinking, and sailing with him, even visiting Kuai Xue Mountain Villa together, claiming they were sworn brothers, good friends.

Huang Fangfo, of course, did not believe such absurd claims, only believing that the two, so vastly different, were mere fleeting acquaintances. The young prince would not take it seriously, while the young man on Great Snow Peak took it far too seriously. As for how he managed to settle in Huishan, Huang Fangfo also found it strange. After all, once Xuanyuan Qingfeng became a hands-off leader, Huang Fangfo had too many matters to handle and simply couldn't bother with the background of an unknown nobody. The current Huishan was divided into various ranks; guest elders and worshipers had vastly different treatments. That young man was Huishan’s lowest-ranked guest elder, only having a small courtyard in a remote area halfway up the mountain, which he shared with two others. His monthly allowance was only twenty or thirty taels of silver, not even enough for a decent night out in the towns at the foot of Huishan.

The young, low-ranked guest elder cautiously looked around, his heart filled with trepidation. He had originally intended to come to Great Snow Peak today to enjoy the scenery and try to get close to the senior martial artists who shared his appreciation. Unexpectedly, he found the path up the mountain completely unobstructed, not even seeing a single soul. He had thought about turning back, but after walking for over half an hour in the snow, he was unwilling to give up. So, he stumbled into Guniu Ridge. In fact, the important guest elders and worshipers near the summit had already received news; this young man was far from qualified for the Great Snow Peak servants to inform him. Thus, by a stroke of luck, he caught sight of the purple-robed figure on the cliff edge, appearing like an immortal.

This was the first time he had seen her since taking refuge in Huishan. The first time he met her was at Kuai Xue Mountain Villa, when that "Jianghu friend" who called himself Xu Qi, at the end, told him to visit Huishan and said that a woman who liked to wear purple clothes was a friend and could offer some assistance there. He didn't take it seriously at the time, but Jianghu was tough to navigate, especially for a rootless wanderer like him, who only ever received cold stares wherever he went. Left with no other option, he seized the opportunity and, with great audacity, risked his life to "meet" this purple-robed lady of Huishan. He had prepared himself for certain death, yet after she narrowed her eyes and sized him up, presumably confirming he wasn't brave enough to lie, she surprisingly, like a compassionate Bodhisattva, nodded and agreed. He only remembered sweating profusely under the gaze of her cold eyes, and long after she left, he remained utterly bewildered. Later, he came to Huishan. Although he didn't instantly achieve great success, he finally had a place to settle, no longer drifting like a lonely ghost in Jianghu. He didn't ask for more; being free from worries about food and drink year-round, he was content.

Seeing her, he mustered his courage and painstakingly walked step by step forward. He wasn't sure if it was the difficult snowy terrain or his respectful awe, but his steps, clad in a straw cape, were heavy.

When he finally managed to reach about ten steps behind her, a clear, cold voice softly spoke, “I only remember your surname is Huang, I’ve forgotten your given name. Huang what was it?”

The voice was not loud, but to his ears, it was like a clap of thunder overhead. Could this woman, high above like a celestial immortal, actually remember his surname?

Overjoyed, he quickly scurried a few steps, stopping judiciously a few paces to her side and behind her, bowing his head and bending at the waist. He smiled and said, “Reporting to Mountain Lord, my surname is Huang, and my given name is Quan… the character for grass radical plus the character for ‘complete,’ not the one for ‘spring water.’”

Huang Quan, who had pretended to be a seasoned Jianghu veteran in front of Xu Qi, had already grown gray hairs and indeed did not look like a particularly pleasing young man. He waited quietly for her next words, but for a long time, there was no sound. This made him involuntarily panic. Had his presence disturbed her enjoyment of the snow?

She gently twitched her wrist, holding the umbrella, and the accumulated snow on the oiled paper umbrella surface immediately scattered like flying catkins.

She didn't turn her head, merely asking indifferently, “Have you heard of someone named Wen Hua?”

Huang Quan said with trepidation, "Of course, of course. He earned the nickname 'Wen Busheng' in the capital, and even fought against Qi Jiajie, the capital's top swordsman. At that time, even Lu Baijie, the Tangxi Sword Immortal who served as the Minister of War, looked favorably upon Wen Hua. Unfortunately, he later disappeared without a trace. Now, the storytellers at the foot of the mountain say this peerless swordsman is Xu Qi... Oh no, he's the new King of Northern Liang's good brother. For him, that King even used Wen Hua's sword technique in the Western Regions to strike Tuoba Pusuan, one of the Four Grandmasters of martial arts, out of the city with a single sword."

She asked again, “Then are you envious?”

Huang Quan chuckled sheepishly. “Of course, I’m very envious. I also diligently practiced the sword, but unfortunately, I wasn’t cut out for it and quickly abandoned it. I only know a few half-baked moves.”

At this point, Huang Quan paused slightly, then cautiously added, “My ability to live and eat freely here in Huishan is due to the Mountain Lord’s compassionate heart. I have not dared to forget the Mountain Lord’s kindness in taking me in these past two years.”

She remained noncommittal, her lips subtly curving upward as she murmured to herself, “Although that fellow named Wen is quite annoying, there truly is only one Wen Hua. It was like that for him, and it’s almost the same for me. To encounter such… a scoundrel again in this lifetime will probably be very difficult.”

The wind and snow on the mountaintop were too strong; even with his ears strained, Huang Quan could not clearly hear her faint murmurs.

She seemed to have lost interest in speaking and said bluntly, “You must know that he sent many Listening Tide Pavilion manuals to my Half Moon Tower. I am now giving you a choice: either you can freely choose a manual and then go down the mountain to venture out, or you can stay disciplined and be an unremarkable guest elder in my Huishan. Although you will be free from worries about food and clothing for life, you will have no future to speak of. You don’t need to speak; a nod means you choose the first option, a shake of the head means you choose the latter.”

Huang Quan, who was usually very chatty, instinctively wanted to ramble a few words, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't utter a single syllable. Then, he suddenly woke up, sweating profusely, and quickly shook his head.

Huang Quan silently thought to himself, "How could I not know my own limits? I can neither endure hardship nor do I possess the innate talent for martial arts to become a master. I've long known to accept my fate."

She said calmly, “I understand, you may go.”

Huang Quan, as if granted a great pardon, dared not linger and turned to leave.

But after Huang Quan had walked a few steps, he softly said, “I don’t know if the person the Mountain Lord spoke of considered me a friend. No matter how much I brag to outsiders without any basis, in truth, I don’t dare to believe that person was my friend. However, no matter what, being able to meet that person, I, Huang Quan, am very happy.”

After saying this, Huang Quan continued to walk away from Great Snow Peak without stopping, not daring to secretly turn his head for another look at her.

As he descended the mountain, he felt a little useless. But after thinking about it again and again, he still felt that being able to meet "Xu Qi" in this life, to meet that young Jianghu person who was willing to let him sponge off him and who would smile and listen to his boasts, was a lifelong joy.

Xuanyuan Qingfeng stood alone, the wind and snow falling endlessly, making the world appear even more desolate.

She slowly walked back to the Half Moon Tower, which was said to be taller than Beiliang’s Listening Tide Pavilion. She ascended to the top floor, which was extremely spacious and transparent. Apart from the golden nanmu pillars, the entire floor was almost empty, with only a rosewood beauty couch. She closed her oiled paper umbrella, bent down, and leaned it against a pillar. Lying on the couch, she rested her cheek on one hand, her gaze extending westward. The most unique feature of this tower was that its entire western side had neither walls nor railings. From there, one could see the distant scenery of Great Snow Peak and even beyond Huishan. Due to the heavy snow across the land, the few young maids who entered this floor to clean had already cleverly erected a silk screen on the western side to block the wind and cold.

She narrowed her eyes, feigning sleep.

In terms of fortuitous encounters and miraculous opportunities, this woman was truly a favorite of heaven and earth. First, she unintentionally acquired a sinister cultivation method from the Great Snow Peak library that could absorb others' vital energy, causing her cultivation to advance by leaps and bounds. While she narrowly reached the First-Grade Realm, it also left her half-human, half-ghost, with her life hanging by a thread. Afterward, she took a trip to Beiliang and absorbed the imperial fortune from several imperial jade seals in the Listening Tide Pavilion's martial arts library, not only solidifying her realm but also eliminating the great hidden danger caused by chaotic vital energy. Then, in the battle that blocked the river, she was defeated by Wang Xianzhi and sank to the bottom of Guangling River, yet remarkably survived and gained further blessings. Liu Songtao and Zhao Huangchao each helped her realm soar, allowing her to reach the Great Heaven-Phenomenon Realm in one fell swoop. Blocking Cao Changqing from entering Tai'an City, the Western Chu Hegemon even granted her that dream of golden millet, letting her dream for decades. The benefits from this, how could they be ordinary?

No one dared to question her leadership as the female leader of the martial arts alliance; some even believed that among the younger generation of Jianghu grandmasters, only Xuanyuan Qingfeng had the potential to rival the Northern Liang King.

As her cultivation rapidly ascended, she became the undisputed leader in the Jianghu south of the Great River, and Huishan's influence grew exponentially, surpassing Longhu Mountain. She declared that pilgrims were not allowed to ascend the mountain to burn incense on the fourteenth of every month, and not a single person dared to go to Longhu Mountain to make wishes or pray on that day.

She once forbade the then Fourth Prince, now His Majesty the Emperor, from ascending Great Snow Peak. She also once, during a gathering of heroes from across the land, had the new King of Northern Liang send several large boxes of Listening Tide Pavilion manuals from a thousand li away, like a "trust." She also participated in the Battle of Tai'an City, shining alongside the three Liyang figures among the world's four Great Martial Arts Grandmasters. She was like a bright moon over the Jianghu.

Some feared her, some detested her, some respected her, but it was strange—it seemed no one in the world had ever purely liked her, even though her beauty was enough to rank on the Rouge List, and even though countless Jianghu men knew that conquering this woman was almost equivalent to conquering half the Jianghu.

She lived reclusively on the top floor of Half Moon Tower on Great Snow Peak, her moods unpredictable. Countless Jianghu masters who had pledged their loyalty to Huishan were inexplicably severely injured by her in a fit of rage, forever losing their chance at martial arts cultivation. Yet, she could not be considered harsh or ungrateful. On the contrary, when happy, she would casually bestow priceless treasures like luminous pearls from her treasury to her maids, and freely give away highly coveted secret martial arts manuals, often in pairs. It was just that no one could predict when or why she would be happy.

She opened her eyes, seeming to find the screen an eyesore, and gently waved her hand. The screen immediately shattered into pieces, fluttering away with the snow.

She left the beauty couch, picked up the oiled paper umbrella, left Half Moon Tower, and walked back to the edge of Great Snow Peak cliff, opening her umbrella.

She slowly extended her hand, outside the oiled paper umbrella, and snowflakes continuously fell, gradually piling up in her palm.

She softly repeated two phrases.

“I was happy to meet you.”

“I was not happy to meet you.”

The purple-robed figure stood there for an entire night, one hand holding the umbrella, the other extended to catch the snow, her form utterly motionless.

No one knew the reason. Afterward, rumors spread in Jianghu that the purple-robed figure of Huishan had watched the snow on the peak of Huishan and attained the Land Immortal realm overnight.

In the second year of Xiangfu, during the minor snow solar term.

The air was cold and snow began to fall, but the ground was not yet very cold, so the snow was not heavy.

Dongyue Sword Pool, this ancient sect that had contended with the Wu Family Sword Tomb for centuries over "from whose house does the world's sword learning originate," began to flourish after Song Nianqing's death, when the surname-different Chai Qingshan took over as sect leader. Several aged sword masters who had been silent for years began to reopen their doors to take on disciples. Constantly, young people of astonishing talent entered Dongyue Sword Pool, where they forged swords and practiced swordsmanship.

Li Yibai, from a prominent Jiangnan aristocratic family, also ceased his distant travels and remained at Sword Pool to assist Chai Qingshan with its affairs. Although Li Yibai’s sword dao cultivation grew slowly, this genius and handsome young man, who had once been equally renowned in Jianghu as Wu Liuding, the contemporary Sword Crown of Sword Tomb, Qi Xianxia of Longhu Mountain, and Li Huoli of Jizhou Wild Goose Fortress, seemed to find joy in it and was not worried about his martial arts realm. Moreover, the Ministry of Punishment of the Liyang court vigorously recruited several Sword Pool masters. Under these promising circumstances, young swordsmen flocked to Dongyue Sword Pool to become disciples, like carp crossing a river.

During this period, the only two disciples of Sect Leader Chai Qingshan had contrasting dispositions: one smiled broadly all day, while the other was constantly worried.

Song Tinglu, Song Nianqing's eldest grandson, was the happy one, because now he could hear many people respectfully address him as "Martial Uncle" every day. This made the young man, who had had to call Li Yibai "Senior Brother" for many years, feel he had recouped his capital.

And Dan Er’yi was the unhappy one, because she felt that those older than her, with each cry of "Martial Uncle," were literally calling her old.

Song Tinglu still only admired Wen Busheng, who had gained fame in the Battle of Tai'an City. He liked to carry a crude, self-made wooden sword at his waist every day. He enjoyed pretending to be an old-timer, nodding in acknowledgement, after hearing someone call him "Martial Uncle," and then secretly grinning when no one was looking.

This day, after the snow, the sky had just cleared. Song Tinglu searched for a long time before finding his junior sister lost in thought in a pavilion.

Song Tinglu probably knew a bit about sorrow. His junior sister, since returning from a place called Taoshu Town in Northern Liang, had started to like sitting alone somewhere, lost in thought. He nobly complained to his master, saying his junior sister was unwilling to practice sword diligently. But before the two men, one old and one young, could interrogate her, the girl casually dismissed both master and senior brother by saying, "I am comprehending the sword." The young man, as her senior brother, was naturally unconvinced. So, the master had them spar. The junior sister, who previously could only win slightly after a hundred moves, could now defeat the young man within eighty moves. He fought repeatedly, losing every time, from eighty moves to seventy, then to sixty, losing all three matches, each outcome worse than the last. Naturally, the young Song Tinglu was bestowed the nickname "Song Busheng" by his junior sister, Dan Er'yi. This nickname quickly spread throughout Dongyue Sword Pool. Two new female disciples, a bit older than the young man, would add "Song Busheng" before "Martial Uncle" when addressing Song Tinglu, which truly filled the young man with both joy and worry.

As Song Tinglu ascended the steps and was about to enter the pavilion, Dan Er’yi suddenly said fiercely, “Remember this: from now on, this pavilion is forbidden territory for our Dongyue Sword Pool. Without my permission, no one is allowed to step foot in it! Not you, not Senior Brother Li, not even Master!”

The girl looked at the dumbfounded young man, waved her hand dismissively, and said impatiently, “Today’s excused, ignorance is no sin, but remember, don’t let it happen again!”

Song Tinglu was helpless, accustomed to his junior sister’s wild, whimsical ideas appearing every now and then; the young man had long since ceased to be surprised.

Song Tinglu whispered mysteriously, “Junior Sister, did you know we have a distinguished guest at our Sword Pool today? Senior Brother Li even used his most treasured tea set, and Master is accompanying him.”

The girl didn't mind being called "Junior Sister" today; she merely said distractedly, “Then why aren’t you accompanying them?”

The young man pouted. “You know I never liked tea; it’s bland and tasteless. Master promised me that in two years, he’ll allow me to drink alcohol. When that time comes, I’m definitely going to drink from a big bowl!”

The girl sneered, “Why don’t you just drink from a water vat then? Wouldn’t that be more heroic?”

The young man was speechless.

He used to lose arguments to her, and now he couldn't even win fights.

The young man was feeling a bit downcast.

The naive young man was far from understanding matters of men and women; it would be a long time before he comprehended the melancholy beneath the belt.

Just as the young man was sulking, three figures approached outside the pavilion: Master Chai Qingshan, Senior Brother Li Yibai, and a young Daoist priest in a Daoist robe.

Dan Er’yi and Song Tinglu simultaneously stood up. The three hurried into the pavilion, and Chai Qingshan smiled as he introduced them to his two apprentices: “This is Little Heavenly Master Qi from Longhu Mountain…”

Song Tinglu’s eyes sparkled, and he blurted out impatiently, “I know, I know, it’s Little Lu Zu, Qi Xianxia!”

Li Yibai rapped the young man on the head with his knuckles, laughing, “Juniors must not call elders by their given names!”

Song Tinglu chuckled sheepishly, clearly letting Senior Brother Li Y